Blame Pete
by The Sliver
Summary: JackOC See Lucy run. See Lucy play. See Lucy be lovesick over Jack Mercer. See Lucy suffer because there's nothing she can do about it but blame Pete. R&R would be helpful, with any suggestions for betterment.


**Disclaimer: I'm just laying the groundwork for a built building, savvy?**

**A/N: Yeah, yeah, yeah, I suck and I've done this before. Takes place in 2003 two years before the movie was set, Jack/OC centric, all included at one point or another, various walk-ons, hard-ons, and aesthetics.**

"You can't be Sid Vicious, because you don't play the bass," Lucille nagged animatedly, laughing despite her avid passion for the subject at hand.

"Read between the lines, Lucy, I said I'm going to be _like_ Sid Vicious, when I become a rockstar," Jack replied proudly.

"Doesn't matter," Lucy wagged her head, her voice chiding and level.

"Next you're going to say I can't be Joey Ramone because I'm five inches too short," Jack muttered.

"Shut up!" She giggled, shoving him aside with both hands, ducking her head to hide her smile, and jogging ahead so he couldn't get her back. "Besides, saying you're 'punk rock' is the about least punk thing you can do, retard."

"So what am I supposed to say? I strive to be a derogatory-it," He retorted, putting a hand over his heart, already having recovered the inconvenience of being pushed and left behind.

"That's putting it lightly," She joked.

"Oh, Lucille, how you do go on!" He said smiling, perfectly imitating a southern bell.

Lucy squeezed the little pink tip of her tongue past her lips and crossed her eyes at him.

"When's practice going to be, we're bad enough as is, and mostly because none of us can play our instruments, so we need to," Here she curled her lips and pointed a thumb upwards, "up the practice time."

"Shit, what are _you_ talking about? I can Clapton on my guit-ar and I _have_ pipes of gold, _you_ on the other hand fail to impress with your flailing around behind that set of yours," Jack quipped.

The two kept walking along, now beginning to pant from the effort.

"I don't _need_ to know how to play the drums, Jack, all I have to do is count to four." Lucille was a bodily active being, apparently having to talk with her hands, for at this sort of thing she stuck up for fingers and displayed both sides of her hand, four fingers erected, to Jack to make sure he knew she said four.

"Right, I forgot you don't have any talent!" Jack jabbed and ran ahead so she couldn't whack him for the insult.

She ran as fast as she could to catch up with him, her backpack digging painfully into her back, but she was determined to catch him. It was all just fun, games and antics, but mostly just shit-talking.

He was about a block ahead of her, with a crosswalk in between, and kept looking over his should and laughing.

"You're so damn slow!" He yelled.

Lucy was about to sprint the crosswalk, without looking both ways, she'd never been the common-sense sort of girl, and it happened so quickly that she hardly had time to register that half of her body was resting on a car that was rolling to a luckily slow stop, and she only now had one foot on the ground, with the other leg folded up and gentle against the car's hood.

"I am _so_ sorry! Oh geez!" Lucille made quick work of stepping down and removing herself from the car's front end, apologizing profusely before rushing off to catch up with Jack, who had stopped for a breath and to play the pointing-and-laughing game at her expense.

She ran to his side and slugged him in the arm, but apparently not hard enough because he was still in absolute hysterics over her downfall.

"You jerk! You are _so_ mean! I can't believe you! I could have DIED!" Lucy scolded him, exacerbating the real situation like she did so well, but still lacking the colorful adjectives that a normal person would have used. It was against her religion.

"You couldn't have _died_, Luce, you didn't even dent the fender. Besides, it was going to slow it wasn't even funny, this is school zone, 'member?" Jack moved slapped her hands away as she made to pummel him in tiny slaps and tiny pushes.

"So what? You at least could have seriously bruised me!"

"Seriously bruised?" This set him off in low chuckles and he started walking along again.

"If I wasn't a nicer person I would give you a serious kicking right about now!" She yelled, even more ticked off that he was still shaking with low laughter.

"Yeah, yeah. Are you coming or am I going to have to make you walk home alone?"

"Wait!" Lucy started after him quick as a flash, because _nobody_ wants to walk alone in Detroit.


End file.
